


In Grasp

by starlore



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Basically, In Media Res, M/M, PWP, also hinting at renji in previous relationship, arrancar!keigo, basically the grossest scenario ever, forced blowjob, non-con, super vaguely though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9693410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlore/pseuds/starlore
Summary: Yet another old fanfic (or, really, drabble in this case) that I reworked and tweaked a little to post here.PWP, no real set up at all. Basically: Keigo as an Arrancar, having captured Renji during the Hueco Mundo arc. Rather than allow his Espada to have all the fun (can you guess who that is?), Keigo decides to toy around with the Shinigami for a while himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. Enjoy this (heavily) reworked drabble. It doesn't make sense. Keigo's essentially a "bad-end" version of himself. In other words, he's pretty OOC to his canon self, so no need to point that out to me. I know. That's the point. Other than that, there's really nothing else to explain, I think.

The room was cold, barren and utterly devoid of anything that could be called furniture. Smooth walls took every sound thrown at them and chucked them back twofold, resulting in a maddening echo chamber that threatened to burst anyone's eardrums should even a pin drop to the equally smooth floor. Clinical, sterile, uniform. Even a rookie could tell with a cursory glance that its lack of outfitting was purely befitting of its intended purpose: to hold captives until they met their untimely end. Or, in this case, met the business end of a torture device. And Renji, being no rookie, realized what he was in for before he was dragged so unceremoniously across the jagged rock threshold of the holding area.

Or, so he thought. Really, what he was met with was far worse.

Being dragged across the floor was humiliating enough, but being restrained by a man-- _hardly_ a man, by the looks of him--took the cake. Renji was forced onto his knees before long, arms tied firmly behind his back as his captor sauntered around in front of him, surveying his work with the eye of an artist. It made him ill.

His voice made it worse; sickly sweet, saccharine, as if speaking to a dog, "Eheheh~ You're so pretty, ne~" Long fingers grasped at his cheekbones and a sharp yank elicited a pained noise from Renji's throat. But there was barely a pause between it and the strangled growl he made in an attempt to bury the unflattering sound; he refused to give him the satisfaction, not without a fight. He never thought, not after the humiliations of battles past and the continuous pact he made with himself, that his life would ever be in the hands of a mere Fraccion (not that he really _gave_ a rat's ass about whatever the hell their ranks were called. All he knew was that it was weaker than the strong ones, and that wouldn't cut it) but there he was.  
  
And there _he_ was.  
  
He barely looked old enough to buy alcohol, if he had been a living man. Slim hips, a delicate curve to his body, fingers too long and too slim and too _frail_ to be the fingers of a swordsman. And yet in making that assumption--more than once, actually--Renji was given proper punishment, proper _reminder_ that, yes, this man _was_ skilled in what he did. Yes, this man _was_ nearly as strong as the Espada ranked below his own commander, and yes, this _Arrancar_ could and _would_ kill him with but a flick of that paper-thin wrist.  
  
So, Renji stilled. Despite all of his pride screaming for a turn around, despite his fingers _itching_ to beat this Arrancar to the ground, Renji would take this moment to bide his time. A rare occasion, to be sure, but one more than necessary to survive. He hated it. He wanted to move, to fight, like he was supposed to. But as long as that Arrancar's fingers were on him, he couldn't.  
  
"But, y'know, I'm a little surprised. You lasted a long while... Most of my toys crumble or break after a little playing..."   
  
Renji hissed, trying to jerk his head down away from the Arrancar, but those bony fingers reminded him once again of what would be waiting for him if he struggled too much. Another embarrassing defeat by the hands of a tall, thin, waifish man. A beast with bone cupping the delicate curve of his cheek, teeth bared and dangerous.  
  
But if anyone knew about baring teeth, it was Renji. With a snarl, he could no longer suppress the desire to correct the Arrancar's classification of him, "S-shut up. I ain't... anyone's _toy_." The words were more of a painful bite to his pride than the lack of action was. It was too familiar, too degrading. As if sensing his wounded ego, the Arrancar's lithe movement in his free hand against Renji's face was accompanied by a matching chuckle, smooth and in control.  
  
"Mmn. You don't like that word, huh?~ I guess I can understand... I don't like it much myself," he admitted, though Renji felt no sense of solidarity in their shared disdain. The Arrancar's head cocked to the side, strands of brown cascading over the smooth white bone of his mask. His smile diminished for only a moment. Renji's brow creased, anticipating.  
  
"But, that's unfortunate for you. Because... Right now, you're mine."  
  
One set of fingers slid down from Renji's jaw, toward his throat like a snake seeking to squeeze the life out of its prey. The Shinigami gasped quietly, mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish as he tried to ease the discomfort that the Arrancar's iron grip had caused in his face. Blood was trapped, pounding frantically in the veins in his temple like a sick beat of death. His vision blurred, dark and starry, before mercy came to the Arrancar's fingers, slackening their grip. Renji's breath came in sharp gasps, a gag working over his throat as he desperately tried to replenish the air that had been siphoned from his lungs.  
  
Keigo was not moved. He looked upon Renji as if he was an insect struggling, trapped in a vat of honey. He continued with his thought, tongue wetting his lower lip, "Toy or not..." his fingers relocated to the back of Renji's head, entangled in the windblown strands and tugging forward, "...you're _mine_."  
  
Renji grimaced, the most emotion he was willing to impart. _What sort of fucked up idea does this guy have?_ , he thought desperately. It was a question he almost didn't want answered, but within a moment, he was given enlightenment, whether he wanted it or not. A rustle of fabric and a gasp of air and the Arrancar's lower half was exposed, erect and flushed. Renji's stomach sank. Immediately, his face paled over, an unconscious shaking of his head sending tousled strands of red across his face. _You've gotta be shitting me!_

His thoughts were more coherent than the angry sputter of dissent that ended up coming out of his mouth, "You're not-- Get away from me, you fuckin' freak!" he howled, rearing back onto his haunches, for all the good it did for him. Being bonded as he was, through the biting electricity of kidou far beyond his skill set, meant that Renji was as useful as a fly without its wings. A caged animal, waiting for the slaughter.

Any sort of sympathy or compassion that could arise from his reaction was not found in Keigo's expression. He was devoid of much of anything but annoyance; the struggling and protesting Renji was putting up seemed to be tugging on his rather short set of nerves. His voice was terse, tinged with an odd sheen of patronizing that could only be fabricated by a true psychopath, "No more talking. We're going to _play_ now~"  
  
His threat was not without weight behind it; those fingers that Renji had been glad to have been rid of were on his face again, pushing at the joints in his jaw until his mouth opened. Eyes wide, Renji could do no more than make a disgusted half-gasp and half-jerk backwards. But this time around, the hand in his hair wouldn't give him as much leniency. Keigo's grip became ironclad, tugging deeply at Renji's scalp, holding him firmly in place. The disconnect between the Arrancar's appearance and the strength he held was almost enough to distract Renji from what was in front of him. _Almost_.  
  
In actuality, his cock might as well have been a gravemarker. _This is how I'm going to di_ _e_ , Renji's brain supplied uselessly. He was going to bite that motherfucker and get his head sliced off, that was it.

Not exactly. Renji couldn't even flex the muscles in his face with Keigo's hand gripping him so tightly at the joint. At most, he could make a few angry, honestly pathetic yells as he sat there, mouth agape and ready to be used. Keigo smirked, "You like to talk big, right? You were saying all sorts of things while we were fighting before, remember?" Renji remembered. Foolishly, he assumed Keigo was just cannon fodder, someone sent out as a distraction, not as an actual threat. A mistake he wouldn't make again, if he would even live long enough to make another mistake.

Keigo puffed out a laugh, continuing, "Let's see if your tongue is as skilled as your words."  
  
Time seemed to slow down as Renji's protests reached a fever pitch. Those smooth walls were reverberating his own voice back to him at a painful rate, making his ears hurt and head throb. But as agonizing as the transfer was, all it took was one swift movement. A fluid push forward and Renji's mouth was forced down upon the Arrancar's erection, an instantaneous gag pushing at the back of his throat the moment the heated flesh passed his lips.   
  
"Oohh~ You're so modest!" Keigo crooned, his eyes fluttering shut briefly before they opened again. Renji could feel him twitch and edge closer on his tongue, saliva dripping from his lip. The head of his cock nudged at the back of his mouth, but always just shy of initiating another gag reflex. Renji's stomach turned. He certainly had done this before, he realized. How many others had he played with like this? And how many made it back out of those doors when he was finished?

Keigo's voice was ethereal, a light bounce against the walls and ceiling, betraying just how sinister he truly was. His hips moved at a steady pace, seemingly uncaring if Renji was even actively participating in what he sought to do. He was wise not to allow him much freedom, Renji had thought, as he knew that if there was a moment's reprieve from the vise-like grip he had on his jaw, he would take that chance to bite down on him, hard. But that wouldn't come, he soon realized. If he truly had done this more than once, he'd be stupid to trust him with any ounce of freedom.

"Mmph, move your tongue. You could do that much, couldn't you?" Keigo asked, twisting his fingers in Renji's hair again. He gave a sharp tug, and Renji growled in return. He didn't make a damn move to do as was asked of him and Keigo seemed to realize that. "Well... if you're not gonna play by my rules, I guess I can break some, then," he supplied, edging closer still to Renji's face until he hunched over him. Holding onto his head, Keigo thrust his hips forward, gliding his cock along Renji's tongue amidst a sea of unpleasant grunts and growls. He was fucking his face, and each time his hips pressed forward, Renji could smell his skin, feel the smooth plain of his pelvis against his forehead. The kido burned into his body as he strained against it, the realization heavy as it hit him that he wasn't much more than a receptacle for this Arrancar's semen.

"How often... do you get used like this, I wonder..." Keigo's remark flitted into Renji's mind, half-realized and half-acknowledged. His lower eyelid twitched and his brow furrowed. The Arrancar continued, "I mean... you haven't thrown up, so... You must have sucked a lot of dick before, yeah?" That hit a nerve. Renji's growling turned into a frustrated, almost inhuman sound, what with the constant plunging of the Arrancar's dick into his mouth, teasing at his throat. "Ah? What's that? I'm sorry, did I make you mad?" Keigo laughed cruelly, slowing his thrusting before, surprisingly, withdrawing his cock from Renji's mouth altogether.

Immediately, Renji spit on the ground, sending his tongue all about his mouth as if trying to scrub the taste from it. "You motherfucker!" was all he could get out before Keigo daringly took a thumb and jabbed it into Renji's mouth, pulling at his cheek.

"So filthy. We'll have to clean that mouth out," he hummed, his other hand retracting from Renji's hair to instead coil at his cock. Renji's eyes flicked down, then up again. He wasn't sure he knew where he was going with that, at least until he noticed that Keigo started jerking himself. A lewd grin tugged at his lips, baring teeth as he pumped erratically at his wet flesh. The slick sound filled the room, quickly overshadowed by Keigo's wanton moaning.

"Hff, we'll give you... something to rinse with..." he murmured, looking down upon Renji with dilated eyes, glazed over with an animalistic lust. His grip tightened at Renji's face, pulling at his lip and mouth, forcing it open further. "Here--"

Renji's mind made a cut jump. At one point, he was staring up at this Arrancar, a deep sense of dread painting his entire face, and the next... A sticky warmth splashed against his lip, his tongue, into his mouth. Saliva and cum dripped from Renji's mouth, his lips red and swollen from the abuse.

The Arrancar wasted little time after that. With a quick burst of a sigh set forth from his lungs, Keigo shoved his hand against Renji's face, knocking him back onto the floor. All he left him with was a cheery, "All done!" before he set to fixing his hakama. Renji was in a state of disbelief, mouth and face stained with Keigo's spent seed, his ears picking up on the gentle sound of soft fabric brushing against skin as Keigo's clothing was set back in place. Everything he had ever been through, all the fighting, all the training, and for what? To be made into someone's plaything? Well, not for long, he figured. Now that Keigo was done with him, that meant he was probably on his way to being gutted or decapitated. The familiar feeling of defeat sank into Renji's body so heavily, he couldn't even bring himself to spit the semen from his mouth. What was the point?

"I think next time... I'll use a different hole. What do you think?" The Arrancar's voice was like a sharp dagger to his chest, a jumpstart that caught Renji entirely by surprise. Eyes wide, he blinked, watching as Keigo sauntered across the floor from the other side of the empty room. "You're pretty, y'know? And I like pretty things... I don't think Ichigo will mind if I keep you!"

Renji felt his heart sink. In that moment, he wasn't certain which was a worse fate: death or being relegated to a perverse Arrancar's plaything.


End file.
